


Snakes and Guns

by chantryscholar



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6760198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chantryscholar/pseuds/chantryscholar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie shares an old memory with Preston one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snakes and Guns

Like Preston, Charlie held an obsession with cleaning her guns. It became part of their nightly ritual, as they sat next to each other in the bed, working away the grit and grime of the wastelands. If they wanted their weapons to take care of them, they had to take care of their weapons.

 

Charlie put aside the rag she had been using, glancing around for the 10mm she had been using as of late. No sign of it. She sighed. “Sugar, ya seen Preacher Killer? I coulda sworn I left it on the nightstand.”

 

“ _Preacher Killer_?” Preston couldn’t help but laugh, his eyebrows raised, as he set his laser musket to the side. He knew Charlie liked to name her guns, but that was a new one. “That’s the 10mm, right?”

 

She nodded, leaning over the side of the bed to grab the ammo container, to deposit the cleaning kit. “Right, that one. I ain’t seeing it.”

 

“Might be on your worktable.” Preston scooted back into bed with her, an arm snaking around her waist. Lost gun or not, he wasn't looking for her to get very far from him that night. “Now, I _know_ you’ve had that gun before we came across the Children of Atom…And you’re not exactly the type to go around killing men of God. What’s the story?”

 

Charlie leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “What, the name? It’s…I dunno.” She found his hand, tracing squiggles and swirls into the hard calluses of his palm. “Named it after a snake I used t’know.”

 

“A snake?”

 

“Sure. What, you think the Children of Atom were the only nutjobs with religion?” She shrugged, before tugging at his shirt. “Lay down. Been a long day, Sugar.”

 

Preston obliged, plopping down into the pillow as Charlie soon settled against him. For a moment, the two relaxed into the bed, listening to the sound of seabirds, the waves crashing against the concrete blocks keeping the settlement in place. Charlie closed her eyes and let out a small breath, her fingers curling into his. She wouldn’t say no to the moment lasting forever.

 

He soon broke through her thoughts. “So…you named your gun after a snake.”

 

“Right. Yeah. I told ya ‘bout my grandmother an’ shit.” She said, her eyes still closed. “Nana Mercier liked to go to a li’l church off the highway back home, where they called angels down to speak through their mouths, lay hands upon the sick, an’ handle snakes t’show that God watched over his most favored flock.”

 

Charlie opened one eye to find Preston staring at her. “What?”

 

He shrugged, choosing his words with care as he said, “Sounds like something you’d see out here.”

 

That got her chuckling, pressing her face into the crook of his neck to hide her smile. “Yeah, just a _li’l_. Anyhow. So, we had a church that liked t’handle snakes, and there was one snake that was about as ornery as you can get. But the damn fool preachers wouldn’t stop catchin’ him to show off how much protection God had for ‘em!” She scoffed and rolled onto her back, her eyes on the ceiling. “He killed _three_ goddamn preachers before Nana Mercier decided enough was enough. Took him, me, an’ my sisters away from that church, right before the cops came nosin’ in t’see what the problem was. An’ Preacher Killer got to settle down in a nice li’l terrarium in her sunroom for the rest of his life.”

 

Preston sighed as he shook his head. Some of her stories made the pre-war commonwealth sound like paradise, but other days, he got stories like _that_. He never knew what to make of it.

 

Charlie scooted closer, draping an arm over his waist as her lips brushed against the soft skin of his neck. “Hey. Ya did ask. Coulda let ya think I shot some wanderin’ preacher man once I stepped outta the vault.”

 

“…True. But with how jumpy you get, I wouldn’t put it past you.” Preston teased gently, laughing when she pinched at a ticklish spot along his ribs. Catching her hand, he rubbed circles against the small nicks and scars found along her fingers, saying, “I thought most pre-war families had dogs as the family pet, not snakes.”

 

“Well, Nana Mercier took to that snake, so.” Charlie shrugged, sitting up enough to press a quick smack to his lips, hers turned up in a smile. “Now you know. An’ it’s high time for both of us t’get some sleep. Early start tomorrow.”

 

“Mm. Always an early start.” He kissed her again, before settling back into the bed. “Night, Charlie.”

 

“Night, Sugar.”


End file.
